Hauling an unconscious childhood friend halfway across the women’s dorm hall was hardly what Sweetie Belle had expected to be doing this afternoon. So far as she was concerned, this entire day was an unmitigated disaster. Her anger at Diamond Tiara and Silver spoon had not lessened in the least. What they’d done was inexcusable and simply unforgivable.

Furthermore, the anger she felt kept crossing over to the idiot on her back. She wanted to yell and scream at him for allowing them to make him the way he was. What kind of idiot continued to see ponies who had ‘kinda-sorta’ blackmailed him and effectively abused him? At the same time though, she didn’t want to be angry at him for this. Not when she saw how much he needed help.

That’s why she was taking him to her room, right? She didn’t know where his room in the men’s dorm was, not that she could bring him there like this anyway. To take him there now would simply open up a whole line of questioning I don’t think he’s ready for, she thought as she came upon her door. Shifting his weight gently, she pushed open the door and sighed. I don’t even know where his other clothes are, so I don’t even know how he’s going to get back into the other dorm, unless he sneaks in after dark. Sighing to herself, she carried him into the room. I’m really in over my head with this.

It was a mere dozen steps to her bed, but under the gravity of the situation, it may well have been a mile. In spite of how heavy this burden she’d brought on herself felt, she couldn’t ignore how light he was. For a stallion—as much as he could even be called that, right now—Button was horribly light. While it was true that she was fit from volunteering at the soup kitchens and helping the orchestra set up and break down, she shouldn’t have had this much ease carrying him.

Setting him down gently on the bed, she was quickly reminded that even though he was fully grown, he was still the runt she grew up with. He wasn’t as athletic or as big as the fillies and colts around him, so he found solace in his video games. Yet here he was, skinny as a rake in spite of a sedentary hobby that by all rights should have allowed him to at least have some weight on her. What scares me is that he doesn’t.

Sweetie draped a blanket over him and, seeing no point in being a careless hostess, tucked the blanket tight around him. It was unclear to her how long he would actually be out of it, but she’d rather he was comfortable when he awoke. His stress reaction to failure this afternoon only solidified the impression that, whatever was going on, he needed some well-deserved sleep.

Just as she reached to remove the glasses still perched on his face, she heard the dorm room’s bathroom door creak open. Of course she would be in, she thought, cursing her luck. Never a nosier roommate could be found in all of Canterlot.

Turning to greet the new addition to her ever-growing stress, she gave a tired smile to the girl. “Hey Twist,” said Sweetie as she sat down on the bed beside Button. “Try not to make too much noise; my friend’s been through a lot and she needs some rest.”

The red-headed young mare stepped out of the ensuite bathroom, clenching a towel around her torso with one hand while the other ran a second one through her mane. “If you’d told me you were having a sleepover—” She strode across the room as if nothing was wrong and unceremoniously dropped both towels at her hooves, revealing her curvy, pudgy form to anyone interested. Not that she had a lot of takers. Sweetie knew most ponies overlooked her for being overweight. “—I’d have made some treats.”

Rolling her eyes, Sweetie Belle averted her eyes from Twist’s creamy, fat bottom. “No you wouldn’t,” she jibed. “You’d make some, forget what you were making them for, and either snack on them yourself, or do that creepy thing where you sneak them into a stranger’s pockets when you think nobody’s looking.” She snorted and then added, “Now put some clothes on.”

A chuckle escaped the chubby woman, and she waved her hand dismissively at Sweetie. “Fine,” she replied with a sniff, bending over as she rooted through her chest of drawers. “Far be it from me to give you some eye candy.” As the she pulled a pair of plain panties, a glance was cast over her shoulders. “You know, I can smell the sex on you both from here. If she’s been through a hard time, there’s no reason to lie to me.”

Sweetie sniffed at herself quietly and frowned. It wasn’t a lie at all. The smell of sex was readily apparent, in spite of her attempts to cleanse them. A small blessing it was that there was nobody around in the halls to comment on this as she carried Button across the hall. A greater blessing was that rather than the stench of stallion cum, the only scent about them was the musk of a wet mare. “Fine, so I forgot about my juices,” she replied, stretching with a yawn. Standing up and striding toward the bathroom, she added, “I’m going to go take a shower. Do you mind k—”

There came a gentle rapping on the door, as though the world’s largest rat was trying to find a structural weakness in the wooden barrier. Just three simple taps and then silence. Altering her course, Sweetie stopped in front of the door to peer out through the peephole. “Are you expecting anybody, Twist?” she asked, pressing her face close to the aperture. Much to her surprise, however, there was no one there. “... or our hall could be haunted. That works too, I guess.”

She pulled the door open, half expecting to find Scootaloo crouched out of sight, giggling like a little filly. It wouldn’t be the first time, thought Sweetie wryly. As much as she looked about, however, she could find neither hide nor hair of her winged, orange friend. Rather, there was a small blue duffel bag resting at her feet. Perched atop it was a small envelope, upon which was written but a single word in flowery penmanship: Button.

Light shone in Button’s eyes as his consciousness slowly petered back into existence. A yawn escaped him as he rolled over, trying to bury his face in the pillow propped beneath his head. Did I leave the light on before going to bed? he pondered, not really wanting to wake. I must have been some tired after yesterday’s... oh man.

He opened his eyes as the memories of yesterday’s session trickled back to him. Sweetie Belle, her magnificent cock, her refusal to reciprocate, and his ensuing panic attack—all of it was fresh in his mind. He brought a hand up and rubbed the back of it against his eyes. “Why did I have to freak out like that?” groaned Button as he pawed at his face. Ugh, I bet my eyelids are right swollen if I cried myself to sleep.

Without warning, he felt the bedding and mattress around him depress. “Hiya, Button Mash!” Somebody popped into his field of view, looming over him with a complete disregard for personal space. Her bespectacled face was practically touching his own, and her pink eyes stared down into his own with an intensity that bore some familiarity. “How come you’re dressed like that?”

In that moment of panic, brought on by the sudden realization that he wasn’t in his own room and that he had been recognized, he did the manliest thing he could think of. A girly scream of unadulterated terror peeled from his throat as he clenched his eyes shut and thrust his hands forward to push away this intruder. The hand that had been at his eyes met face and glasses, and even succeeded in pushing her back a bit, while the other sank into something large, warm, and incredibly soft. Whoever she was, she groaned—or was that a moan?—at his flimsy attempt at self preservation.

When nothing happened, he cautiously peered out from beneath swollen lids. His frizzy-haired assailant looked at him blankly, her purple horn-rims askew and her cheeks flushed. She blinked at him a few times before he tore his gaze away from her face. As luck—or misfortune, depending who was asked—would have it, he had a very generous handful of plump breast.

He felt his own cheeks redden as he tried to ignore the fact that he was currently molesting someone he didn’t really recognize. This of course was a completely futile endeavor, and a certain part of his male anatomy did as it was so often prone to, and began to inflate with blood, expanding from his sheath, tenting his panties. “I-I... this isn’t, I mean... sorry?”

“Twist, what the hell?” The shout from the far side of the room drew his attention from this awkwardly arousing event. In the doorway to what surely had to be a bathroom stood Sweetie Belle, a towel clutched loosely against her chest. Her mane hung limp and damp, clinging to her face and shoulders, and her equally damp coat glistened with moisture, as though she’d rushed out of the shower. “I asked you to not d—what in the blazes is going on here?!”

Button squeaked and pulled his hands back from the mare on top of him, both out of alarm at Sweetie’s surprise appearance and the revelation that he was accidentally feeling up another childhood acquaintance. In response to the change in weight distribution, or maybe just gravity, Twist collapsed on him pinning him to the bed beneath her breasts and her belly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

He flinched as Sweetie Belle glared at them both. “I swear, Twist! I asked you to watch over him while he slept, without waking him up, and you’re telling me you couldn’t do that one, simple thing?” she growled, pointing a finger accusingly at the mare atop him. “Get off of him!”

The other mare took on a false air of offense as she removed herself from being on top of him. “But he seems like he wants to have some fun,” she complained. A hand was waved, indicating the light tenting in the blanket about his waist. “You didn’t bring him here to share?”

Sweetie’s hand came up and covered her face from view. Her head shook and a loud sigh escaped her. “That’s morning wood!” she said, glaring out from between her fingers. “I know you know what that is because I get th—”

“Um, where exactly am I, and why does Twist know me by my real name, even though I’m supposed to be Dee?” he interrupted, sitting up on the bed. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“That’s actually a very good question,” Sweetie replied, alternating her gaze between the two. “How did you know?” Her eyes fixed on Button for a moment. “Wait, Dee?”

An embarrassed smile crossed her visage, and she looked away. “I may have taken just a teensy bit of a peek at the letter that came with the bag dropped at the door.” She flinched back expectantly, as though she feared reproach. “It was boring just sitting here watching him sleep, and you were in the shower, so I didn’t see the harm!”

Letter? Why would there have been a letter? Did I not take my bag with me? His eyes wandered about the room, taking in his environment. As he tuned out the arguing pair, his mind began to work. So, Sweetie Belle and Twist share a room in the women’s dorm. That means I never made it back to my room last night, if that much time has even passed. As if to confirm his suspicions, the digital clock on the bedside table read 9:13 PM. It was still Saturday after all.

I still don’t remember leaving or seeing Diamond and Silver. His hand came up almost automatically and brushed his bangs out of his face. Something must have happened after I cried myself to sleep. Since these two seem intent on arguing, maybe I should just find this letter and check it out.

As he shifted his position on the bed, he absentmindedly pinched the bridge of his nose. In spite of the letdown during their session, he felt he could trust Sweetie Belle to not blab about all of this, if not because of her own apparent relationship with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, then because of her own unique nature. She of all ponies would likely understand embarrassment. Twist though? She was an unknown.

The sound of paper crinkling beneath his hoof as he stood, stretching his sleep weakened muscles. Upon looking, he saw his hoof had come down beside his garment bag. The moment his hoof came off it and he began to lean down to pluck it off the floor, the paper casing alit with a bright green glow. As though alive, it swam through the air like a drunken faerie, landing gracefully in his waiting palm. “Thanks,” he said, not really paying Sweetie any mind as she went back to chewing out her roomie. “I wonder what it says...”

Emblazoned on the front of the envelope, he saw his name. I guess I can understand how she figured out who I am, he thought drily. Turning it over in his hands, he was unsurprised to find the seal torn. The only thing really left to do, he realized, was to stop dawdling and read the letter.

Button,

For the time being, your presence is not required for any further video sessions. It may seem hard on you, but this is for the best; you need to stay away from Diamond Tiara and myself.

This isn’t a punishment, and you haven’t done anything wrong. Rather, it is the two of us that is at fault. It came to our attention after today’s date that in your training, we have forgotten how this all began. What Diamond and I did to you in that bathroom was nothing short of a sexual assault, and Sweetie has helped us see that there are lasting scars from that encounter. We never wanted to hurt you, or for you to fear us, but I am afraid that is exactly what we have done. You are not the same colt we started out with; it’s almost as though we’ve warped your entire sense of being, and so it must stop.

Do not come to me or Diamond, and we in turn will stay away from you. What you need is help and support from those who truly care about you, not those who have abused you. Diamond reluctantly agreed to remove your videos from our webhost, and give you what proceeds remain from them. In the bag with your clothes is a cheque for two thousand bits and enough Equestradiol to last you through transition; it’s not nearly enough to make any on this up to you, but we want to show you we at least care. That being said, I advise you to decide what you want to become. We had no right to rape your body and mind. If you wish to go back to being Button, please stop taking the hormones. Either way, please seek help before it is too late.

In spite of her preferences, Sweetie Belle seems to hold feelings for you. If there is a pony you can lean on for support, it is her. You can trust her to be there for you, regardless the choice you make. Please let her help you—for your sake.

Regretfully,

Silver Spoon

The paper began to tremble as he read, becoming nearly unintelligible near the end. He tried to keep it steady, but he found it was impossible to steady the paper when it was his hands that were shaking. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said, his voice a hoarse whimper. “They didn’t hurt me! Why do they think they hurt me?”

Whatever argument the two roommates were having screeched to a halt at his question. They both looked at him cautiously, Twist alternating her gaze from Sweetie and Button. They could both see his lower lip quiver as his eyes took on a moist sheen. When neither of them answered right away, his ears began to droop.

“Button...” Sweetie began. Her voice hitched in her throat as she struggled to find the words. “What happened today, your panic attack, was not normal. Whatever they actually did to you, they made you dependent on pleasing a partner in order to feel good. You looked uncomfortable when you were trying to bring up the courage to touch my penis, as if you were doing something wrong, and you didn’t relax until I gave you the go-ahead.

“You were all over the place, even then. The entire time, there was a look in your eye, as if you were afraid of reprisal,” she said, looking away. “I know Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have a strange idea of no-strings sex, but fear has no place in the bedroom. The fact that you have a fear reaction at all makes it obvious that you’re traumatized to some degree.”

As though he’d just been slapped, he flinched as her words meshed with those of the letter. Was what they did to me really so horrid? he asked himself. When did I even decide any of this? His body shook as the implications of it all set in, and then, as if he’d been slapped again, another thought occurred to him. How can she talk about this so casually in front of Twist?

Twist gave Sweetie a horrified look as if to say “I don’t want to hear about that,” and backed away slowly. “I’m just going to... um...”

“Sit right there,” Sweetie Belle commanded, pointing to a spot on the bed beside Button. “I know you aren’t as much of a gossip as some, but we need your word that nobody is going to find out about this from you.”

The redhead put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “Button Mash, I give you my word as a mare, and hopefully your friend, that no one will hear of this from me, or my name isn’t Peppermint Twist.” With a reassuring squeeze, she turned to the lone unicorn in the room. “Sweetie Belle, I read that letter, and I can tell you’re going to have your hands full with him—or her, if that’s what Button decides. He’ll need all the support he can get.”

Button rose from the bed and absentmindedly snatched up the duffel. “I need to think,” he said quietly. “You mind if I take off?”

Sweetie Belle reached out a hand as though to stop him. “Button—”

“I know I’m probably pretty screwed up right now, but I just need to think,” he interjected, giving her an unsure smile. “I’m just going to head back to my dorm and lay down for a bit. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Author's Notes:

Like I mentioned in that blog post a few days ago, this is one of those weird transitory chapters. Given that this is also a slice of life, not EVERYTHING is going to be super lively. That being said, the next chapter will hopefully have a bit more life to it.